The Scar
by skybluewriter
Summary: Set at the end of Deathly Hallows Part 1: Harry, Ron, and Hermione have survived their battle with the Death Eaters, but Hermione has been marked with a terrible scar - the word "Mudblood". What will her friends' reactions be, and how will they manage to cheer her up? Ron/Hermione fluff at the end :D


Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books, movies, video games, or anything else associated with Harry Potter and its characters.

**A/N: Hey everyone! So this is basically a fanfiction that picks up right after Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 (the movie) ends. I know that this isn't what happens in the book at this point, but I wanted just a little story focusing on the 'Mudblood' scar that Hermione receives in the movie and the way that she, Harry, and Ron might deal with it. So enjoy! Reviews are amazing (: **

The Scar (A Harry Potter Fanfic)

Harry sat in the cool, damp sand, watching the ocean waves slide on and off of the shore. Each wave of cold blue water crashed loudly as it met the sand, but Harry barely registered the noise. His ears were already filled with the echo of the things already heard.

"This is a beautiful place to be with friends," Dobby had whispered with his dying breath.

"No, no, please, NO!" Hermione's screams had filled the room as Bellatrix tortured her.

Harry's mind ached with the knowledge that all of this was his fault. Yet again his friends had put themselves in danger to save him. Now Dobby, the faithful elf, was dead, and Hermione was not far behind. He was so tired of watching everyone that he loved suffer; he was so tired of knowing that it was his fault.

"Harry," Hermione's voice beside him was just a whisper. "We've done all we can for Dobby. Please, we need to put up enchantments, and the tent; we need to keep ourselves safe. The Death Eaters are probably already looking for us."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. He had Hermione curled gently into his arms. "Hermione needs to get inside, she's still really pale."

"Of course." Another pang of guilt pressed into Harry; Ron was right. Hermione's face was colorless, her eyes were half closed, yet she was still looking out for all three of them.

"But the tent… It's still in the forest." Harry realized. "And we can't risk going back there, that's where the Snatchers found us to begin with."

"There's another one in my bag," Hermione informed him.

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "You're amazing, Hermione, you know that right? Only you would think to pack a spare tent."

Hermione cracked a smile. "I know."

Once the tent had been put up, Harry began to spread the enchantments around their small living space. Ron eased Hermione inside, promising her a warm cup of tea and a good night's rest. Hermione smiled at him with warmth in her tired eyes, and Harry suddenly felt more alone than ever. Deciding he wasn't quite ready to join his two best friends, he sat down on the cold, hard earth and stared out into the fading sun.

Suddenly a loud yell from inside the tent jolted Harry back from his troubled thoughts. Jumping to his feet, he was inside the tent in three long strides, his wand at the ready. He was expecting a Death Eater or Snatcher, but all he found were Ron and Hermione.

Ron was standing with his fists clenched at his side, his breath coming in loud, angry gasps. Hermione, who was curled on her bed, was trying to calm him.

"It's okay, Ron, it's okay!" She hastily tried to pull her sleeve over something on her arm, but Ron stopped her. "Look what the bloody git did to her! Look!" His eyes shot daggers at Harry as if he was this bloody git.

Harry bent over Hermione's stiffened form and stifled a gasp. Carved into her pale arm was the word "Mudblood", written crudely and still oozing blood.

Hatred for Bellatrix coursed through Harry's vein's so forcefully his wand emitted bright red sparks. He spit out, "We'll fix it, Hermione, we'll fix it!"

Hermione shook her head helplessly. "It can't be fixed. Scars made by the Cruciatus Curse can't ever be reversed; its magic is too strong."

"There's got to be some way!" Harry countered. He couldn't take the thought of Hermione having that hideous word on her arm forever.

"There isn't, okay?" The brown-haired girl snapped at him angrily, and Harry flinched, surprised. Then she suddenly dissolved into tears.

"Hermione!" Ron hurriedly sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms. She leaned into his chest, sobbing. Harry sat down beside her, again feeling guilty. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean-"

"It's not your fault," his friend sniffled. "I'm sorry, I'm just… tired." She glanced down at her scar again and Harry knew what she wouldn't admit – she hated the thought of having it on her arm forever just as much as he and Ron did.

"We'll find a way to get it off," Ron assured her; he too knew what she was thinking. "There's always _some_ way to reverse a spell." The red-haired boy thought for a moment. "Like the Elder Wand! That would do it, wouldn't it?

A glimmer of hope passed through Hermione's eyes. "Maybe… It _is_ said to be the most powerful wand in the world… If it actually exists."

"Of course it does." Ron said decisively. "Harry's Invisibility Cloak exists, doesn't it? So the Wand does too. And we'll find it."

"Yeah, we'll find it just for _you_, Hermione." Harry tried to make her laugh. It almost worked – he pulled a smile from her. But then she snuggled deeper into Ron, and Harry knew she really just wanted to be with him. So Harry excused himself to go find something to eat, and tried not to listen in on their conversation as he rummaged around in Hermione's never ending bag.

"I hate it," Hermione whispered, fingering her scar. "It makes me look hideous."

"No, it doesn't," Ron reassured her. He pulled her hand off the scar and wrapped it into his own. "You couldn't be hideous if you tried, Hermione. You're beautiful."

Hermione smiled her first real smile that night. "Thank you," she whispered. She leaned up and kissed Ron on the cheek. Then she curled into him and closed her eyes, and within a few moments her breathing was light and slow, the breathing of sleep.


End file.
